


Sweet Escape

by Ibenholt



Category: Babylon 5
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 16:11:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8292085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ibenholt/pseuds/Ibenholt
Summary: The centauri emperor may be the soul of the people, the center of this republic. But he does require assistance now and then.





	

“I have said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Durla’s voice was reaching the level where it was about to break, and Londo momentarily worried about the window he was standing next to, “We would be able to manage on our own!!”

He kept his face neutral, letting him know that he listened, but didn’t necessarily agree.

Once upon a time, ha had loved banquets. He would mingle, drink and maybe meet someone who would be interested in spending the night with him.  
As he had gotten older and realized that it took actual work to keep his star rising, he had allowed himself to discuss politics with the white-crested ministers and let the pleasures come later.

Becoming emperor seemed to have put an end to anything resembling fun, however. Durla, Lione and Sireni had kept him hidden in a corner for the entire evening, more or less hissing at anyone who came close.  
Finally, Londo reached the bottom of his goblet and waved at one of the servants who was walking around with refreshments. She gave him a sympathetic look as she poured him wine, letting him change his place in the little circle the three others had formed.

“Thank you, my dear.”

His back was turned to the crowd. Balancing on his left leg, he scratched the back of his shin with his right foot. 

“Don’t you agree, majesty? I do think you’ll find that the entire Centaurum thinks as I do! And we are not saying that the Alliance is unwanted. We merely want to insure that we are not seen as dependent on their help. Surely you can see what we mean, majesty?”

As Durla was waiting for a reply, Londo seemed to grow two arms that wrapped themselves around his middle. As if that wasn’t enough, a head appeared on his shoulder, and peered at the little group with blood red eyes. Londo took another sip of wine and patted one of the hands that were pressed against his waistcoat,

“Hello, G’Kar.”

“You’re needed in the garden, Mollari.”

He glared at Durla, whose knuckles had turned white around the stem of his goblet.

“I see. You gentlemen will have to excuse me.”

G’Kar released him, only to take his arm in his own and drag him with him through the ballroom, and out of it. The hallways were slightly chill, and it only got colder as they came closer to the glass doors leading out to the garden. G’Kar opened them for him and followed him down the marble steps.

“I cannot thank you enough. Durla and those two other idiots seem to be planning a coup of some sort.”

“Do you think they will manage it?”

“Not at all. The people may admire Durla but there isn’t a soul around here who takes him or his group the least bit seriously. That will keep him from climbing too far.” 

“Ah, so once again the opinion of the rich and the powerful matters more.”

“Of course it does. We are the ones who will have to personally tolerate the ones who are in charge.”

As they reached the ground, G’Kar pulled him under the balcony and trapped him against one of the thick pillars there,

“I’m sorry about all your responsibilities, Mollari.”

He started pressing his lips to his jawline,

“Let me take your mind off them.”

Londo snorted and pushed him away,

“If you’re not going to take me seriously, you can just leave me be next time I’m cornered.”

The Narn captured him again, which hardly required any effort on his part.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. You’re charming when you pout and complain, but your minister’s horrified faces are infinately more amusing.”

“You shouldn’t push them, they barely tolerate you.”

“Ah, tolerance! So I have managed to charm even them.”

He started going for his neck again, and Londo relaxed against him, stifling a moan.

“Hardly…”

“I don’t care, Mollari. Not really. My one and only concern,” he nipped at his skin, “Is you.”

His hands felt weak as they wound up on G’Kar’s chest, hopelessly tugging at the buttons on his shirt,

“So you don’t regret it?”

“Hmmm?”

“Staying here, I mean.”

G’Kar paused, but didn’t look at him.

“How could I? Fleeing your tormenters far outweighs fleeing my followers.”

They had to sit down at some point, he thought, and truly discuss what G’Kar had potentially given up forever. Somewhere and some time he couldn't joke it away.

But at that moment, he let him push his hand up his waistcoat, and sink his teeth into his neck, putting an end to further debates.


End file.
